baker!reader who's lured simon riley into her shop, home and heart with sweet treats. (pt.1) pt.2
it happened all too quickly for your mind to comprehend. one day you were manning your bakery, restocking sold out treats in the cases when the little golden bell above your pink, french-style doors. you were expecting anyone really—one of your regulars who leaves with a latte and a breakfast desert, or a kid with a sweet tooth.
instead you were met with a tall and shadow-like man, broad and built with a dark mask covering all but his two dark brown eyes and light lashes.
well, maybe you had lied when you said you were expecting anyone because this was not what you had in mind. a quick glance around further confirmed that he didn't look like he belonged. wearing all black and that mask—it faces you chills to meet his eyes, which you only did briefly before you both averted your gazes—he stood as awkward as a kid getting a scolding from a parent. like he knew he didn't fit in.
in his time from the door opening to standing across the cases from you, you realized you hadn't said your greetings. embarrassed, you flushed red and almost stuttered out the words.
"welcome in," you smiled, grasping a mini tong in your hand. he grunted in response, but you didn't let it deject you. he didn't look like the friendly type. "do you need time to look, or have you figured out what you'd like?"
you offered a question in hopes you'd get a word out of him. does he speak at all? Is his voice dark and rough to match his appearance, or is it high pitched and wonky, like a bad comedy movie?
"tha' one." he pointed at a pastry through the glass, where you noticed a slight tremble in his hand. nerves? a swallow bobbed under his mask, and he retracted his hand. "please."
you simply nodded and avoided thinking about the way his voice gave you butterflies. it was deep, accented—british—and not as rough as you would've thought. his words were smooth when he spoke, and his tone seemed to soften when he remembered his manners.
"of course." you make haste to package his pastry to go in a box with your bakery's logo—small and pink with flowers. you were so focused on gently handling the little treat, and when you finally looked up, he was already staring. it caught you off guard. "anything to drink?"
he nodded, tearing his eyes away once he realized he'd been caught. "wha's good?"
you bit back a smile—most of the drinks offered on the menu did not seem his speed. "our most popular at the moment is a cinnamon caramel cream cold brew."
silence fell over both of you as his attention landed on you again. the rim of his eyes had widened, and an almost concerned glint reflected against his iris. maybe that was shoving him into the deep end?
you chuckled. "I'll get you a black coffee."
"no." he shakes his head. "I'll have...wot'ever y'just said."
a giddy smile threatens to take over your face as you punch it into your device. "what's a good name for that order?" you didn't need his name, he was the only one in here. you only took them when it got too busy and too many people ordered the same drink.
"simon."
simon. you liked his name. it suited him.
"I'll get that made right away, simon," and you turned your back on him to do just that.
the entire time you prepared his drink, you felt the weight of his eyes burning into your back. it wasn't malicious, but it made you nervous. was he just curious? the drink he ordered wasn't something he was accustomed to.
which is why you were conflicted. if you ever had a customer that you thought were cute or attractive, you'd find yourself giving them a little extra in their drink. more caramel drizzle, extra chocolate chips, a free peppermint stick. with simon, you weren't sure about adding in more sugar to a drink that was definitely not in his comfort zone originally. you withheld for now—and held your breath that he would come back again.
you spun around with the drink in hand, a clear cup with flowers decorating the sides. sliding it across the counter along with his pastry, you gave him an equally sweet smile. "there's that for you, simon. your total is $9.45."
he reached into his wallet and pulled out a crisp twenty, opting to hand it to you rather than sliding it across the counter. for some reason, it meant that much more to you.
"I'll be back with your change!" his mouth moved under his balaclava, but you didn't let him speak before turning around. you fumbled around in the cash register for a few moments before the bell chiming caught your attention.
handful of bills and the correct change, you turn back to simon while simultaneously calling out to the new customer. "welcome—" you paused, brows knitting together.
simon was gone. no new customer had walked in, only the one who just walked out without his change. you didn't even see the direction he went outside the window, just that he was gone as quick as he came.
something in your heart sank. you just met the man, but a feeling tugged in your chest that told you something different was going to happen.
that was the first time you saw simon, and you knew it wasn't the last.
!new! — only including this on one post, but I linked a kofi in my pinned post if you ever thought about supporting me! it is not required at all but deeply appreciated! thanks!
